


Gonna Love You Til My Dyin' Day

by 1f_this_be_madness



Series: No Love Like Your Love [5]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF, Queen (Band)
Genre: And they're best buds as well. I love it, Band Fic, Best mates casually sleeping snuggled up together before cooking breakfast does things to me, BoRhap Movie References, Brian cares about John so much but John doesn't believe it, Celebrations, Concerts, Couch Cuddles, Crying, Declarations Of Love, Drinking, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Fish & Chips, Freddie's death remains major, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Gwil and Ben are such good mates, Had to mention Ben's dog Frankie because they're such cutie pies together, Hugs, I don't know if this is exactly angst but it's gonna be a little bit sad, Insecurity, Joe and Rami are so lovely, John Deacon deserves to know how wonderful and talented he is, John Deacon does not realise how special he is, John's Birthday, John's still really private so the boys have to work with that, Okay Ben and Gwil are just cute and I love them, Pics showing Gwil in glasses are gonna be the death of me, Poor John, Rock Stars, Rock and Roll, Roger Taylor is here so there will always be swearing, Roger Taylor is here to help, Roger is sassy always, Sad Brian May, Shy John, Singing, Swearing, The band still misses Freddie, There is always going to be snuggling when these lads are present and I'm not sorry about it, This is incredibly important, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-06-29 18:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19835614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1f_this_be_madness/pseuds/1f_this_be_madness
Summary: Brian May is a perfectionist. Everybody knows that, if they know even the tiniest bit about his musical repertoire and time with Queen. Yet he is also surprisingly so upon a movie set, which the actors in Bohemian Rhapsody found out.And a certain erstwhile bassist realises how closely Brian must have used to watch him while he was performing. He wonders why Brian would know so much, and pay attention, not to mention recall after all the intervening years.Brian has his reasons, and he wants to show John how much he (and Roger) still care about him.





	1. Chapter 1

It is after watching Bohemian Rhapsody again that John Deacon is able to focus on some of the smaller things. 

He remains enthralled by Rami's performance as Freddie, of course; but he notices a lot more of Roger in Ben--the drumstick flips, the pouring of beer across the drums... and Brian is perfect; Gwil even catches his grimaces and the faces that he makes whilst playing. It is astounding. John is certain Bri was standing over Gwilym's shoulder, murmuring "Well, no that isn't how I'd move, more like this way" or "No, that note doesn't exactly work", some such comments like that; and he recalls how comments akin to that would have irked him when he was a part of the band, whereas now he can shake his head and smile slightly imagining it. 

But it is upon Joe during a performance that John pauses. He thinks that he notes something during the first performance he joins in the film, when they are performing 'Keep Yourself Alive', but the atmosphere of that particular scene is dim and smoky and so John shakes the sight off as merely his imagination or memory playing tricks on him.

But then Joe does it again--not only is he physically playing his bass, which John can tell and feels a swell of warmth and pride fill him at Joe's accomplishment and dedication for doing so--but he lifts his fingers to his mouth and licks them, dampening the tips to continue fretting the strings. John always used to do that in order to keep his fingers from getting stuck; playing dries the skin out, and if he could not move quickly enough over the strings, the notes would shorten or shriek or end badly some other way. John leans forward, watching closely, and again and again Joe dampens his fingers --in particular during Live Aid-- which causes John's heart to thump and a lump to fill his throat, hot tears prickling at his eyes. He cannot believe Joe would note something so minuscule, infinitesimal about John's mannerisms onstage, something that was so _him_ yet so unimportant, he thinks. Not pertinent to the story at all, but Joe put it in because of how much he cares. John does not know how to express how that makes him feel, so he asks the younger man about it.

"Oh, you saw that," Joe says easily when John mentions the motions to him. "Yeah, uh, Brian actually told me about you doing that. I mean, I saw it a couple times in videos, but he always reminded me. Called my name and put his fingers up to his mouth, so I was like, oh yeah gotta do that, lick my fingers again." 

"I...never knew he noticed," John murmurs. "Why would--why would he be so focused on including that?" _Why would Brian care?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have returned to continue this series, my loves!
> 
> I watched an interview where Joe mentioned that Brian would whisper loudly to him "Joe!" during the Live Aid sequence and mime licking his fingers because it's something Deacy always did. And I think that is proof that, besides Brian being a perfectionist, he really noticed things about John, and loves him. So I needed to write a story about that, because dear John seems the type not to believe that or realise how wonderful he is :'(
> 
> Here is the link to said interview: https://youtu.be/1RRZG56Ee9E
> 
> Comments appreciated <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian talks to John

Brian May is incredibly grateful for the outpouring of love that Bohemian Rhapsody has received (and continues to, months and months after its initial theatrical release). Bugger the critics and run-of-the-mill press as Roger says; their film is reaching the hearts of those who need it most. 

Yet even that fact in some instances is not enough. Which Brian realises with a shock of sorrow upon meeting up with John for supper one evening. He and Roger--they have continued to keep up meeting in out of the way places (and Brian no longer needs to be tricked into joining John after Roger's good-intentioned sneakiness the once). The ease they felt of old is mostly back, though still remains tinged with sadness. 

Brian's sorrow is magnified when during the meal after mentioning the film's success, John articulates: "I--saw, took note of Joe's movements, the ones that were _me_ , Brian. Even the... finger-dampening, which he told me that you reminded him to do."

"That's right," Brian nods, glancing at Roger. "Is... were you alright with us including that, Deacy?"

John's forehead crinkles as he nods. "Of course, but I wondered--why?" His voice breaks softly. "Why'd you bother? It's not important, just a quirk I had." His green-grey eyes flicker as he gazes at Brian. "Why would you be so focused on including it?"

Brian's eyes widen and grow pained as Roger leans forward, his blue gaze sharp and incredulous. "Are you fucking serious, John?" He asks. Demands, rather.

Bri shakes his head at the drummer. "Rog," he remonstrates, putting a hand on his arm and then looking back to the erstwhile bassist. John is waiting patiently for an answer. Oh, Deaks. It hurts Brian to see that he honestly doesn't understand why they would include as much about him as they possibly could with what they had. But the guitarist understands feeling lesser, inadequate. He understands those emotions all-too-well. 

Brian swallows and pushes back his iron-grey curls in precedence of his answer. "John," he says. "I--we wanted to get everything as correct as we possibly could, and I thought if one day you were to see the film, or even to hear about it... Getting you right was imperative because I thought," Brian swallows hard, blinking back emotions now as his hazel eyes begin to fill. "It would show you how much we respect you. How much we love you." 

The guitarist's voice is nearly inaudible now as he reaches over and catches hold of John's hand, his own long fingers trembling as he squeezes it, looking into John's face, begging him to understand. "How much I do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How else can Brian prove how much he cares about John? Dear sweet Deaks doesn't know it :(
> 
> Comments appreciated <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger Taylor has an idea

Roger doesn't know what he is going to do.

He's used to Brian in his moods, and sadness, and worries, and he has always done what he can for his best friend. Same with John, when Deaks would let him. But this time he doesn't know if he can help either of them--after supper ends, the rest of it quiet as hell because apparently John cannot comprehend a fucking love declaration for cripes sake--the three of them say goodnight, and John actually wishes them luck on their next tour, which will be starting soon. Roger nods to him and Brian's throat bobs as he smiles but looks like he's about to lose it.

So "Alright Brian," once John leaves, Roger claps an arm around his tall companion and steers him back into the bar where they had eaten. 

Brian sinks into a seat beside the physical bar that Rog leads him to and the guitarist buries his face in his hands with a sound bordering on a whimper. "Come on mate, it's not that bad--we know John; he's always lived that credo of not to think as highly of yourself as the rest of the world does. If ya actually start believing you're a rock 'n roll deity, you're done. Deacy's smart like that, always has been." With a grunt the drummer hauls himself up into the seat next to Brian's, lifting two fingers to the bartender as they glance over. Lacing his fingertips together he nudges Brian with a smile. Gotta get his mood to lighten somehow.

Brian's mood is neither lightened nor soothed. "This isn't about how the WORLD sees --or feels about-- him, Roger," Bri lowers his hands and Rog is startled to see his eyes swimming, tears actually running down his creased cheeks. "This is about us loving him still, and Deacy not--not realising it." Brian swipes a shaking hand across his face as more tears fall. He had never said he loved John, not in the right way; they were at odds often, just because their sensibilities ran different ways, and neither spoke much. But Brian should have. Even when he was at odds with John's love affair with disco, for example, he should have told Deaks that he admired his will, his dedication to the band and to music, to getting things right. "... I'm a terrible friend," he whispers.

Oh, no. "Bollocks, Brian, no you're not!" Roger snaps as he turns to him, gripping Bri's nearer arm, shaking it the way he wants to shake some bloody sense into this dear man who thinks so lowly of himself still. It's infuriating. "We've just gotta show him that we care, alright? We've been apart so long, yeah, maybe John doesn't realise how much we still love him but we can let him know that. Help him see." Roger's voice breaks a bit as he tries to help Brian believe and feels himself growing emotional as well. Come on, Roger. Don't go blubbering like a bairn over here, we've already got one emotional band member.

Brian has sucked back most of his tears as Roger continues to hold onto his arm, rubbing circles on it absentmindedly with the ball of his thumb even as his blue eyes flash at Brian. Good ol' Rog in all of his loyal vehemence. God, Brian appreciates that and loves it, even when he doesn't agree with Rog's words. But oh, how he wants to believe his friend right now. "How, Rogie?" Brian's voice is a croak as he sniffs and swipes at his eyes and then his curls, attempting to compose himself. "...How can we show John that we still care?"

Roger's lips lift as the gears turn in his head and his eyes twinkle. "Well, let's think here for a minute, mate. We're still rock stars, aren't we?" Brian nods. Yes, they are. For better and through worse. He is still so grateful to do what he loves, though how much he wishes Freddie was here to see and be a part of it, and oh, John.... He feels himself growing emotional again and focuses on the other's high voice, his sure and certain words: "--Why not use that, use our voices to send a good message to Deaks for once?" Roger asks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Roger's got Brian and he wants to help John. A plan is taking shape!
> 
> Comments appreciated <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A birthday present

It's a helluva thing, the digital age. Roger remembers when the radio was king; when phonographs had records, and then the world moved on to video systems and compact disks.... Everything is online now, save for all those people who think it's incredibly cool to listen to records again. 

The video age has progressed to become the digital age. Phones have videos, cameras, and components that feed digitised information up into clouds and then online. Or something like that; Roger has no bloody clue. John would surely know, but John is the person for whom he requires such information, so fuck asking him. Thus Roger does the next-best thing. He has contact with some members of the young--erm, newer generation who happen to be both technically savvy and to adore John as he does.

He calls Joe Mazzello.

"Joe, it's Roger," he says by way of introduction when Joe picks up the phone. "Listen, I've got this idea and I need to know how... video connections work. Can a camera or something send what's happening at a place as it's happening through the internet to someplace else so other people can see it?"

"Uh," Joe is thinking hard, going right along with Roger. "You mean like a Livestream, the way people post sometimes on Instagram?"

Silence and then: "No, I mean like a private video that Brian and I can send to John so he'll see the way--how we still feel about him after all these years." Roger ceases speaking for a moment. A multitude of moments pass by before the drummer continues, tone a trifle wobbly with emotion: "...I want to do something for John, and I know you know how he is."

Joe automatically begins nodding, though of course Roger cannot see him doing that over the phone. "Yes, I do."

"And we've got to respect his privacy, but I want to--I've got to do this." For him and for Brian. Roger cannot stand to see his friend so certain John doesn't know that Brian loves him. That they both do. "--on his birthday," he adds to Joe. The band will be on tour then, which will work excellently for what he has in mind. "What d'ya say, Joe? Can you do this, are you in?"

Without a moment's hesitation Joe responds "Yes I'm definitely in, Roger. I'm SO in, this is awesome!" He enthuses with tone rising in typical Joe-ish fashion. 

Roger pumps his fist and smiles, invigorated and pleased. Not to mention grateful. "Cheers, that's bloody fantastic. And erm," realising he hadn't even exchanged pleasantries, shit, the drummer now asks "How are you, by the way?"

***

On August nineteenth, John's family is acting oddly. They have done all the usual small gestures for his birthday, as every year he begs them not to make a fuss. But now it is after supper and Cameron is checking his watch and his phone, pacing around the kitchen. John is concerned.

"Cam, are you doing okay, son?" He asks as he dries the dishes Veronica is washing. His wife smiles reassuringly at him, pressing his arm, but his son isn't answering, which has him, well, a bit worried. John repeats "Cameron?"

His father's tone of voice is a bit louder than typical, and Cameron starts. "Oh! Sorry, Dad. Yes, I'm--" he gets a message just then from Joe, saying Lucy's ready and they're on. Cameron's breath whooshes out and he beams in joyous relief as he goes to his laptop--which is fully charged, he made sure of that--plugging in a password to bring up a live video feed. "I just have one more present for you, but it's not just from me, it's from multiple people." He turns up the volume and steps back from his computer as he turns the screen so it faces his father. "Happy birthday."

John blinks and squints and moves closer to the screen, which is rather dark. Pinpricks of brightness show up in the foreground, and then an unmistakably familiar voice speaks over a loudspeaker from a microphone that is illuminated. On a stage. John's body jerks as he recognises Roger's white head behind a drumkit, Brian's grey curls beside him. 

"--A dear friend once said," Roger's high voice is a bit rough as he adjusts his mic and clears his throat. Brian moves over to sit at the piano that John notices onstage as well. He feels his body go cold with shock. What is this? What is going on? "...that the reason our band worked was because of the four people in it." Roger's chin dips in a sharp nod as a many-throated cheer goes up and John convulsively clutches his wife's hand as she has finished the dishes and stands next to, leans into him now. This is a concert. A--Queen concert. Oh, good lord. "So we'd like to send this next song out to our dearest Freddie, and," Roger chokes up a bit before smiling with all of his teeth, eyes finding the camera directly, or so it seems. "Sweet John."

Brian smiles at his friend before turning to face the piano and shaking out his hands. "For our dear friends on this special day, here's a little tune about spreading your wings." Bri starts on the piano introduction, again nodding to Rog, who twirls his drumsticks and breathes deeply. Brian's voice is achingly soft and sweet as he begins: _"Sammy was low, just watchin' the show, over and over again. Knew it was time, he made up his mind, to leave his dead life behind."_

Brian turns around and pulls the strap of his Red Special over his shoulder as Roger continues the lyrics, voice a husky growl: _"His boss said to him 'Boy you'd better begin to get those crazy notions right outta your head!'"_ The drummer flicks his tongue out at Bri as he sings the next in a high piercing falsetto. _"Sammy who d'you think that you are? You should've been sweeping, up the Emerald Bar...."_

Brian walks to the microphone that hangs over Roger's drumset and with a movement unprecedented, leans sideways and backward against the kit to join his friend on the chorus.

_Spread your wings and fly away, fly away, far away-- spread your little wings and fly away, fly away, far away! Pull yourself together, 'cause you know you should do better, that's because you're a free man._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed to have Bri and Roger show their love for John in a way that still respects his privacy, which I hope this did. I love 'Spread Your Wings' as a song and think its message is really powerful. A song about chasing your dreams even if people around you don't believe, the fact that a person will still go after what they want to do in life is incredibly inspirational to me.
> 
> *The comment about the band working "because of these four people" is from an eighties interview with John and Roger wherein they were asked why Queen works as a group, and John gave that answer. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, my dears! Comments are appreciated as always <3


	5. Chapter 5

Brian's voice croaks a bit, almost cracking as he thinks of John flying away from them after losing Freddie; his choice to be with his family has certainly been something he did better. Bri only wishes they had not been at odds, estranged for so long. Mayhap then John would know how much he cares about him still, how much Roger does too. The guitarist recalls the startled look upon Deaks' face when he said why he had told Joe about John's quirks. The fact the erstwhile bassist did not think his littlest idiosyncrasies were noticable--or worse, WORTH noticing--the fact that he wondered why Brian would recall those little things and didn't understand, it breaks Brian's heart. 

John feels so overwhelmed with emotion, heart thumping, body shaking, eyes filling as he listens to Roger taking the second verse. It is all Brian can do to play his guitar through the mist of tears that blurs his eyes, and backup comes in the form of vocals and a bass that it takes John an incredibly long moment to realise sounds rather akin to his.

The crowd is swaying, investing everything in the voices and work of those onstage. At _"His boss said to him, 'Now listen boy, you're always dreamin'!'"_ the entirety of the audience joins Roger's growl, and the drummer is floored. It is like he's Freddie, he is getting that same response. His wide eyes catch Brian's and Bri smiles softly, extending his hand. Roger grins hugely, taking a deep breath and crowing _"You've got no real ambition, you won't get very far! Sammy boy, don'tcha know who you are, why can't you be happy...?"_ the drummer's voice cracks now, his sentiments extending to ask that question of John, and Brian, and also of himself. Can't they just be happy with what they had, and what they do? They still have each other after all. And they haven't lost Freddie, not truly. 

The crowd and their backup sing the chorus, and as Brian begins his guitar solo and moves through it to the outro, he looks up, thinking of Freddie; and outward, thinking of John. _"Come on honey, fly with me."_ They certainly had flown with those two dear men, and continue to do so because of their talent and passion and love.

"Thank you!" Roger calls out at the crowd's tumultuous roar when the piece is finished. 

"We love you," Brian adds, blowing a kiss. "Love you Freddie, John."

"Happy birthday Deaks!" Roger adds, and with a pumping fist and a pointing arm, extends his drumsticks to the spot just beside Brian's spotlight where a duo of shadowy figures stand. 

Brian introduces their wonderful background vocalists, and guest bass player who came to assist as a favour to them. "I am so happy and humbled to introduce our dear friends. Please, everyone, put your hands together for Misters Joe Mazzello and Rami Malek!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I think this is officially crack now, but oh how I wish it could happen :) Had to have Joe playing bass somehow though, and if he and Rami are there it infuses the song with the spirits of Freddie and John, I think. I hope in a respectful way.
> 
> Please let me know what you think; comments are always appreciated <3


	6. Chapter 6

Ben Hardy has never minded travelling abroad for Fashion Week. Of course, he's gotten a series job that keeps him close to--or "Stuck in London," as Joe in particular tells him, whining consistently "I gotta see more of you, Benny, or I'm gonna languish and waste away!" 

"Sure, mate," Ben had laughed, but it is really nice to feel so missed and loved and needed. 

Now for once Gwil is in the same boat as he is, missing out. (...Okay, maybe Ben does mind Fashion Week a bit. He had to remain at home for one whilst the other lads promoted Bohemian Rhapsody all around the world. They got to go to JAPAN without him, for cripes' sake.) Anyhow, Gwilym normally has been able to find a way to be front and centre in the shenanigans, or at the very least at someone's side in preparation for and anticipation of them, because in this group shenanigans will always, always ensue. It is really just a question of when. But he's just done a film, some top end Australian thing and has that to promote. And Ben is modeling, after which he is utterly exhausted and can't wait to fly back to London, intending to kip on the plane and then to turn in for the night. In his own bed, with Frankie. That will be glorious, and it's the nineteenth of August, which is a Monday so nothing much is going on, right? Ben doesn't think so. At least, nothing much for most people.

He is not most people, though. 

Soon as he gets into Heathrow and turns on his phone it blows up with about fifteen text messages. Ben has gotten used to this; ever since the four of them started a What'sApp chat together, life has been hell. Glorious, pun-filled, meme-infested hell. But tonight there are no puns, nor memes; not even any Queen lyrics utilised to groaning effect. No, it's a bunch of messages saying wherever Ben and Gwil are, they need to get to a computer because there's something big and awesomely important happening, and it has to do with Queen.

So Ben finds himself--jet-lagged and still wearing a red high-fashion shirt along with his Prince heels, as he's begun to refer to them--smelling like an entire bottle of expensive cologne, ringing the bell on Gwilym's flat door and wondering what exactly could be so bloody important.

Gwil opens the door for him, wearing a tight white t-shirt emblazoned with some word the other doesn't notice, and short shorts. He looks a trifle tired too, but his eyes light up as he spots Ben in the entryway, fingers hooked around the shoes he's already kicked off because the heels are KILLING him--how women do this so often is beyond Ben. And props to John Deacon wearing platforms for the entirety of the seventies, what a master. Ben's standing here in stocking feet probably smelling like an entire perfume section and looking ridiculous, he is sure, but Gwilym Lee does not mind at all. 

"Ben," he breathes, pulling the shorter man into a fierce hug, "I've missed you, mate." Ben drops his shoes with a THUNK and hugs Gwil back. God, he gives such great hugs. Long arms wrap round Hardy's back, rubbing soothing circles across his shirt and skin. "Come in, I've got beer and food. As well as my laptop because apparently there's something incredibly important that we MUST NOT MISS happening tonight." His eyes twinkle as he releases Ben and retreats a bit, giving him room to enter the flat. "Any idea what it is?"

"Not a clue," Ben says, ducking and grabbing his bag and his shoes. He almost over-shoots on the downswing, stumbling. Gwil catches his arm, squeezing it. "Cheers, mate," Ben raises himself back up, blushing a bit. How he can work a catwalk and then nearly plant himself on a flat floor is beyond him.

"God, you must be exhausted."

"A trifle," Ben allows, moving into his friend's flat as Gwilym shuts the door behind them. "I'll be alright though," he assures as those warm blue eyes fix on his face. "I just feel like I may need to make use of your shower," He flushes again. "'M sure I smell disgusting."

"No you're fine, really," Gwil reassures as he walks past Ben into the kitchen, waving for him to put his stuff down wherever. "I mean, 'course you can take one if it'll make you more comfortable, but I can also just lend you some clothes for the night and we can chow down on fish and chips." He opens his oven, of which the light is on. "Just popped off and got some. It's nothing fancy, I'm afraid," he rushes to add "--we can get something else, if you like. I'm sure you've been dining on high-class articles of food all week."

Ben grins. "Yeah, and so this sounds lovely. Please, I've been _dying_ for some real food. At fashion conventions, it's kinda like it's a crime to eat sometimes." Flopping down on Gwil's couch and scrubbing his hands across his face, Ben sighs and thanks Gwil gratefully as the other brings him a beer. He takes a long sip and closes his eyes. "Ahhh, that's good," Ben murmurs. He opens apologetic oceanic orbs, hastening to reassure: "I'm fine with it," he bumbles out, "But for the entirety of the past week I've been bloody _starving_." 

Gwilym's shoulders shake with laughter as he brings greasy packets of fish and chips over along with a second bottle of beer for himself. "Well I'm more than happy to fix that with proper English carbs and grease. We can load you up as much as possible," he says. Placing everything down, he rises and puts a hand on Ben's shoulder. "Go ahead and start eating; I'll find ya some more comfortable clothes." With that the tall man disappears into his bedroom.

Ben gulps beer and devours fish--never mind what Gwil said, he wanted to wait and eat with him, to be polite, but he was too bloody hungry. Gwil returns with a pair of soft cotton trousers and an old neon-bright Manchester United shirt for Ben to lounge in. Rolling his eyes, Ben goes into the washroom and attempts to wash away at least some of the excessive cologne, not to mention what he's certain is funk from riding in an airplane and driving all over Paris in the back of smoky taxicabs. He changes clothes and returns to the front room to see Gwilym wearing his wire-rimmed reading glasses, hunched forward on the couch with his computer open in front of him, bluish light illuminating his high-boned face as he types in something. "Lucy sent me this pass code, says we've got to watch for Joe and Rami, whatever that means. And, aha!" He hits Return and a window pops up. "There we go," Gwil beams in triumph and shifts the screen so Ben can see it too. 

Ben comes round to sit on the couch again, seeing that Gwilym had gotten them both another beer. Good man. The blond lifts his knees and curls now-bare feet underneath himself, and Gwil pulls down an old blanket to wrap around them both, automatically stretching his closer arm out for Ben to come lean against him. Ben scoots over gratefully into his friend's long torso, snuggling up to his side as Gwil sips beer before turning up the volume, which allows them to hear--

"Hang on, is that 'Spread Your Wings'?" Ben asks, leaning forward.

Gwil's arm settles around Ben's shoulders as he squints, chin jutting out a bit whilst he listens. "Yeah, it is. There's Brian playing the piano."

"Wow," Ben's soft voice is as enthralled as his is. "...They must've gone to a concert."

"Lucky bastards," Gwilym grumps. "I WOULD'VE gone, but my film wrapped not long ago and I just got back after the press tour round Australia. Great place, lovely people, but damn. I'm upset now."

Ben nods, leaning his head against Gwil's shoulder and catching his lower lip with his teeth. "Yup, and Paris isn't really all that fun when you haven't got any time for sightseeing because you're at photo shoots the entire fucking time. Us and our sob stories," he speaks drily. "Must be SO tough to have paying jobs."

"Right, I know," Gwil returns with a tiny light chuckle. "How dare we." They share a smile and quiet to listen to the rest of the piece--noting that some of the vocal harmonies sound... familiar. Gwil expels a strangled gasp when Brian introduces Joe and Rami after the song is over, and Ben lunges for the computer, nearly falling off the couch and clocking Gwil.

"What the hell?!" he whispers, eyes enormous as he spots their mates onstage, sharing an incredulous stare with his friend.

"They ARE bastards," Gwilym speaks with finality. "Dirty, dirty bastards." 

Ben snorts. "...Guess there are some things happening around here after all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found I had to include Ben and Gwil --I can't have them missing this in good conscience! (Of course, they're still kind of missing it, poor lads, but at least they're doing that together.)
> 
> *I've heard about Ben's fashion weeks, and though I don't know if they're always in Paris, that's where I figure they'd be. No personal experience to back this up though, haha. 
> 
> *Ben's red shirt and Prince heels are Instagram photo/comment references because I had to ;P also I need Gwil in a thin shirt and tight shorts because I just do.
> 
> *Gwil's movie that I referenced here is set in the north of Australia and it's called "Top End Wedding". Soon as I saw the trailer I almost exploded from the cuteness, oh my goodness.
> 
> I legitimately keep on adding chapters but eight is the final count I think. Hope you enjoyed this! Comments always appreciated <3


	7. Chapter 7

Ben wakes up the next morning half-buried in the cushions of Gwil's couch, legs and feet cramped and stuck under the central segment. He stretches out as best he can, and finds his head is pressed into Gwilym's side, cheek against his ribcage, stuck to the thin t-shirt his mate wears. He feels the cool metallic hardness of Gwil's laptop cinched underneath Gwil's arm beside him, resting across the man's lean chest. Gwil's other arm drapes around Ben's shoulders, and his reading glasses are cockeyed on his nose. Gwil's head is tipped back slightly and snores exit his throat. He spent even more time than Ben had staring at that video last night before trying mightily to get into contact either with Lucy or one of the lads to ask what in the bloody hell was going on. 

Rami and Joe hadn't just been playing--or singing--with Brian and Roger, but afterwards Rami had gone up and delivered a speech that was lovely and humble and heartfelt (because of course he would, he's Rami) saying what an honour and privilege it's been for them to be welcomed and allowed to be a part--even a miniscule portion--of Queen's legacy. His words were erudite and beautiful and bugger it all to hell, Ben and Gwil hadn't been there!

Ben reflexively clenches his hand, and finds it's wrapped around Gwil's midriff. He is clutching onto a handful of his friend's shirt, and Gwil lets out a grunt and a sniff as he inhales sharply through his nose, lifting his head and blinking owlishly. "Oh hi Ben," he whispers. "Morning."

"Morning Gwil," Ben replies, letting go of the other man's shirt, his round cheeks flushing with embarrassment for grabbing him. "Erm, sorry to wake you, mate. I was just--"

"--Still thinking about the pair'a prats that are our friends?" Gwil inclines his head at Ben's expression, smiling a wee bit. "I've been doing that myself."

"...I just can't believe it," Ben mutters. "I mean, I know we were gone for a bit, and have been, but this was such a MOMENT."

"A momentous occasion for certain," Gwil is nodding, spikes of dark hair waving emphatically as his head moves. "I absolutely, wholeheartedly agree with you. They'd better be thinking of something to make it up to us."

"Somehow, yeah," Ben agrees, flattening his own hair and shifting himself to sit upright as does Gwil. "Ought we call them?"

"I rather think THEY ought to call US, those bastards. But certainly we can call them. After breakfast," Gwil rises, setting his computer down on the coffee table. "I'm not putting off a meal."

Ben stands up too, smiling at Gwil. "Good, I respect and second your conviction, mate. And I'm honestly still bloody starving." He puts a palm to his stomach, making a face that telegraphs his ravenous hunger, and Gwilym laughs aloud.

"Point well taken. Come on then, let me make you something."

***

After breakfast, which Gwil finally allows Ben to help him with because "C'mon mate, you're letting me stay here with you, lemme help-- 's the least I can do", Ben calls Joe. By FaceTime because of course Joe would want that, and truthfully Ben wants to physically witness the fear in his mate's eyes in response to his and Gwil's wrath.

The moment Joe answers the call with a screech of greeting, his pasty forehead taking up the majority of the screen because he holds it waaay too close to his face in excitement, as usual, Ben snaps out: "What the fuck, Joseph? I get back from fashion week and am instantly forced to watch you and Rami literally _living my dream_ of being rock stars. I was gone for fIVE BLOODY DAYS, mate!"

Gwil, who of course pops over to stand behind Ben and commiserate, puts in: "You and Rami are dirty, dirty bastards for doing this to us."

"Without us," Ben asserts. 

"Where _is_ Rami, anyway? He ought to hear our fury too," Gwilym says grimly. "Better go get him." Joe swallows and nods, and they hear his feet moving swiftly across the floor before Rami's voice precedes his features into frame. "Oi Rami, must be nice to do your own little miniature version of Live Aid, eh mate?"

"I mean Lucy filmed it, so at least we could see it, but honestly that may have been worse than simply hearing after the fact," Ben murmurs, eyes catching Gwilym's. Gwil blinks slowly, a tiny gleam in his own cerulean orbs. They are truly peeved about missing this, of course, but mostly want to mess with Joe and Rami.

Rami and Joe look at each other, both of their expressions serious and sorrowful.

"Jeez I didn't think--"

"We're so sor--"

"BUT! The most important question still remains," Gwil cuts off their apologies. Joe fidgets nervously as Gwil swoops into view beside Ben and Rami looks into both his friends' faces with his large eyes contrite and open. Gwil and Ben hold out with the angry glowering for a mite longer, and then both of their faces soften. "...what did John think about it?"

"Yeah," Ben says, tilting his head forward eagerly. "How does he feel?"

Joe's face goes blank as Rami shrugs. "I-- we, uh, honestly have no idea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically, *small child voice* oooh Joe and Rami are in TROUBLE! How can they possibly make this up to their mates lol
> 
> Also how DOES John feel?? We will find out, only one chapter to go!
> 
> I can't believe I initially didn't plan on Gwil and Ben being in this story!! But I absolutely adore them together so HAD to change my mind :P
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this, loves. Reactions welcome <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John reacts

Multitudinous feelings are crashing through John Deacon even after the initial visual evidence is gone. After watching the video all the way through and hearing Rami and Joe's heartfelt words, which moved him to tears, the erstwhile Queen bassist sits upon his couch with one hand wrapped around his wife's, silently sobbing.

He thought they hated him, Bri and Rog. Well, if not hated HIM, at the very least hated that he had left, the way he did so --they lost Freddie, and then they had lost him too. But by his own choice, which John feels completely sure would hurt so much more, rankle so much fiercer. As an action it would be so much more difficult, if not impossible, to swallow. He does not regret his decision, however, even now. He sits beside his lovely wife and sees his children and grandchildren growing and cannot feel anything but gratitude that he is able to do so. No, his only regret is that he had left his two best friends behind on the day he left Queen.

He ought to have called, or written at least once over the years. Even could have added a little note onto the pages of the band's financials after he ran the numbers with Miami. But he hadn't; and after being witness to this show of devotion from the video tonight, John feels a gnawing ache fill his chest. It is as though he has been sucker-punched directly in the heart, and the repercussions are spreading outward.

John sits stone-still as he breathes heavily. Ronnie sits beside him and rubs his back without saying anything for some time. John adores her for that, for being here for him as she has always been from the very beginning. Right from the start. Cam is here now too, his son puts away dishes, and gifts, and the laptop. The movement his son makes to take his personal computer back to his room causes his father to say "...Hold on please, Cam. Just a moment." The youngest Deacon child turns and lifts his eyebrows.

"Yes, Dad?" He asks in a quiet, hesitant way. Having been around his father in tears before, this deluge is still discomfiting, to say the least. Particularly based upon the situation--it is a delicate balance, for certain.

"How did, erm. How did this happen?" John sniffs and wipes at his eyes, trying to smile, to reassure his son. He waves a hand. "Who orchestrated this ...gift?"

"Well, it was Brian and Roger who had the initial idea," Cameron says. "They wanted to do something for you, and Roger called Joe, who got in touch with me, and Lucy and Rami as well."

John nods and closes his eyes. Oh, dear souls. "And they did this..."

"They did it because they love you, Dad," Cameron speaks gently. "We did it because we all love you, and you deserve to be recognised and cherished for everything you've done, and for who you are." He leans in and wraps his arms around his father, hanging on as Veronica does the same.

John chokes out a sob, eyes crinkling. His features tremble as he clutches them both back. "Oh, how can I ever...?" Thank, repay, do SOMETHING, he wonders. This, all of this means so very much.

"Well...I think they'd... they'll want to know what you think about it, Dad," Cameron responds slowly. "Of course, only if you want to say anything."

John nods. He buries his head in his son's shoulder. Cameron has understanding far and away beyond his years about the way John feels about and deals with situations. He is forever astounded by that aspect of his youngest son, and more grateful for it than words could ever say. "I'd--I want to tell them," John says, withdrawing just enough from the embrace to squeeze his wife's hand and look into his son's eyes. "I want them to know...what this means to me."

John feels a sense of serenity settle in place around him as he decides this. He holds tightly to his wife's hand and kisses her on the cheek before reaching round with his free hand to grasp his son by the arm. Cameron nods at him, facial features crinkling into a configuration that mirrors his father's smile, which remains an astonishing sight, even after all these years of seeing it. He promises to let the others know. _Hurry back, hurry back, don't take it away from me because --you don't know what it means to me,_ John thinks.

***

Brian and Roger are asked to come days later--or well, whenever they can swing it, due to being on tour and all--yet the request from John via his youngest is important to Bri and Rog, so they come to see him as soon as they possibly can. Brian of course gets a hug from Veronica as soon as he enters the house, and Roger a kiss on the cheek as he waves and shoots John's wife a wink. John stands, staring at the two of them. His closest friends, his family after--and despite--everything. 

Roger stands, solid and sure, his blue eyes sparkling bright as ever. Good ol' Rog, always upfront and straightforward with his love. And then there is Brian. Brian, who is currently gazing at John with a kind but slightly uncertain smile on his face. His darker hazel orbs are crinkling at the edges, and John feels hot tears spring into his own eyes as he whispers "Brian...," Everything he cannot say, all the emotions he does not voice aloud flow through that single softly-uttered word.

John lurches forward as the guitarist answers "Yes, Deacy?" just as softly.

John swallows and wraps his arms around Brian's middle, clutching him close and pressing his face into the tall man's chest and shirt. Brian jerks in surprise before hugging back, his cheek pressing into John's soft, slightly thinning on top hair. The erstwhile bassist is shaking with love and gratitude. All his emotions pound through his extremities at once in an overwhelming headlong rush. All that he can think in this moment, all he can articulate about everything that has occurred throughout the years, all the bonds of love--all that Brian, Roger, and Freddie have done for him--is "...Thank you."

Brian May closes his eyes. He feels a swell of happiness bloom and burst inside him, lighting him up at John's words. He holds the shorter man close and replies "Of course, John. I--we love you."

John's head nods, nuzzles into Brian's chest and he grips the other tighter in his own turn. "I know. And I love you."

After a moment more, they both hear Roger huff out a breath, almost a snort. "Well thank fuck for that, now the pair'a you aren't being dumb gits anymore...." The drummer moves in, wrapping his arms around them both in relief, and they shift to bring him into the embrace. This is their first group hug without Fred wherein they all feel every single bit of the love they did when he was alive. Perhaps he is here; watching over them, smiling down.

It is certainly a wonderful, incredible source of comfort to think so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Had John think about some lyrics from 'Love Of My Life' by Freddie because I found it apropos  
> I hope his thoughts are understandable here. Dear John, I appreciate and respect him so much :) Brian is incredibly sweet, and Roger is the best most vehement friend ever.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this, my loves! The payback for the BoRhap boys is up to your imaginations <3 my thanks go out to all these lovely people I have been writing about, and to you for reading. Unless I get a bolt of my own personal brand of inspiration, this series shall end here. Again I want to thank you all for your continuous support, darlings - it means the world to me.


End file.
